


The Power of Kings

by Morgyn Leri (morgynleri)



Series: Archer, Battle-Mage, Trickster, and Warrior [5]
Category: Norse Mythology, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, GFY, Gen, Post-Movie(s), gratuitous abuse of mythology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-08
Updated: 2013-01-08
Packaged: 2017-11-24 04:39:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/630526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgynleri/pseuds/Morgyn%20Leri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You said this would repay my debt!" Sif visibly reins in her temper, though she still glares at him.</p><p>"Did I?" Loki stands, stalking toward her. "Are you so naive as to think one little message delivered - and without telling me the reply in full - would clear you of that debt which you owe me? Would absolve you of the taint of treason, for which the punishment is death should it be brought before the court?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Power of Kings

The knock on his door is entirely expected, and Loki smiles to himself where he sits in front of the fire. He hadn't been entirely certain Sif would return, but he had been certain, at least, that if she returned, she would come first to him. Seeking to provide him with information, to repay a debt he has no intention of letting her settle so easily. Allow her to think it might be settled with this, but he can find more uses for her than to simply deliver one message.

"You may enter, Sif." He doesn't move from his chair, watching as Sif opens the door just enough for her to enter, a frown on her face as she looks over toward him. She moves to take the other seat, and he shakes his head. "I did not invite you to sit."

A scowl is his response, and Sif shifts her stance, the better to spend time on her feet for an unknown time yet. "There was a Jotun waiting near the other end of that path you sent me on."

Loki smiles, though he's somewhat surprised that there had been anyone. He hadn't seen anyone there in all the times he'd gone to Jotunheim - not that he had gone often, with the lack of anything interesting there. It makes him wonder who had been there, and why they had been there. If whoever it was had some contact with the one whose actions he had taken credit for.

"And why would I care if the Jotun with whom you spoke was waiting where you arrived, or if you had to walk across half the realm to find one?" Loki raises an eyebrow, still smiling, and watches as Sif's scowl deepens. "Who was he, and what was said?"

"He called himself Helblindi Laufeyson, and he said to bring you to Jotunheim if you have the will to use the Casket of Ancient Winters to help." Sif meets his gaze, holding it steadily as if she were trying to convince him that she has told him all he needs hear.

"What else?" Loki draws out the last word slightly, his eyes narrowing. "What else did he tell you, Sif?"

Her response is silence, watching him with a stubborn expression, before she reluctantly adds, "He claims that you cannot be Aesir if you would wield the Casket, but a Jotun. That you would have to be Laufeyson, and his brother."

There is still something missing, but Loki doesn't demand the rest immediately, remaining silent until Sif shifts on her feet, just the movement of weight toward the balls of her feet. Hoping to leave soon, he's certain.

"You leave when I dismiss you, Sif." Loki meets her glare, and doesn't flinch. "Your debt is not nearly paid, yet."

"You said this would repay my debt!" Sif visibly reins in her temper, though she still glares at him.

"Did I?" Loki stands, stalking toward her. "Are you so naive as to think one little message delivered - and without telling me the reply in full - would clear you of that debt which you owe me? Would absolve you of the taint of treason, for which the punishment is death should it be brought before the court?"

Sif is silent, and he can hear her grinding her teeth as she continued to meet his gaze. "If you would have my life in recompense for my actions, then you may have it." Her voice is harsh, anger and humiliation underlying the words.

"I do not want your death, Sif." Loki reaches out, tilting her chin up. "But I will accept your life for your treason. You need make no oath." The last is spoken airily, with a smirk on his face that's cold and vicious.

He can feel her grinding her teeth once more beneath his fingers, her glare heated and furious. Silent in her anger for a long moment before she takes a deep breath, drawing back, one fist across her chest as she drops to one knee. "I, Sif Tyrsdottir, offer my service as a warrior to Loki Odinson..."

"No." Loki looks down at her, his expression cold and sharp. "Laufeyson, if you must use a patronymic."

Sif scowls a moment, closing her eyes a moment before she looks up at him again. "I, Sif Tyrsdottir, offer my service as a warrior to Loki Laufeyson, to go where he shall send me, to defend him with my life, and to do all that I might be commanded by my lord."

Loki doesn't let his expression change, continuing to look down at her, waiting for a long moment before he speaks. "Should I accept your oath, you who has already proven willing to break an oath you have given?"

"The Jotun Helblindi said the power of the Casket is one only wielded by the king of Jotunheim." Sif does not move. "He said you would owe nothing for those who died if you were to claim and hold the throne of Jotunheim, that he would claim you as brother and as king if you were to bring the others under your sway."

Her words have the ring of truth, and there is no sense now that she is holding back information from him. It does not wipe clean her betrayals, but it tells him what he needs to know to go forward once all the wergild that he owes has been paid.

"I, Loki Laufeyson, do accept your oath, and shall return loyalty with consideration and betrayal with death." He reached out a hand to rest on her head, weaving magic into a coil that unwinds like a striking serpent, and wraps around Sif as tightly as his own son will about a meal. Assurance that she will not betray this oath without more immediate and severe consequences than she suffers for her treason.

Beneath his hand, he can hear her draw in a sharp breath, and shiver violently as even she feels the spell sink in. Sif does not speak, not even to protest, and Loki raises a mental eyebrow at her silence. Restraint isn't one of the traits he expects of Sif, and that she is managing to achieve such a thing is odd.

Walking back to his chair, Loki settles into it, watching as Sif rises from her kneeling position to stand once more. He contemplates dismissing her immediately, but there is something in her expression that stays him. A myriad of questions she holds back, likely stemming from what the Jotun had said to her. The claim that the Jotun was Loki's brother by birth, that Loki was Laufeyson - though he knows that the latter, at least, is likely true. Whether there are Jotuns who are his brothers, he is less certain of, but he also knows of no reason for the Jotun to lie about such a thing.

* * *

"Ask your questions, Sif." Loki's words are quiet, and not the ones that Sif is expecting. Dismissal, yes, but an offer to answer the questions that are a tumolt in her mind, no. Though even with such, she is uncertain that Loki will give her any true answers save those he wishes her to know, and which of them will be truth might be hard to tell from those which will be lies.

He's watching her as she turns over the risks in her mind and weighs which questions she thinks he might answer true. "Was the Jotun right to call you Laufeyson?" It is the question whose answer will generate the most questions in turn, but perhaps the one she wants to know the answer to the most.

"So I was told when I asked for the truth." Loki shrugs, his expression blank - not one she is accustomed to seeing on his face. "I cannot be certain it is true, anymore than I can trust anything else the All-Father says."

If there is a lie in that, Sif cannot see it, and she's quiet a moment while she tries to decide if she wants to believe what she is being told. "How could you have hidden that you were a Jotun for so long? I cannot think even such an accomplished liar as you would have had the skill to hide such a thing as an infant."

Loki's grin is sharp and vicious, making Sif straighten further, the same thrill as in battle stirring in her veins. "How, indeed, would a Jotun infant be able to pass unknown into Asgard, hidden from all the Aesir in the wake of a war against those same?"

He's not going to answer her, then, but there is something there that Sif thinks is perhaps ugly and dark, that she shies away from for now. She may perhaps have to face the truth he is not saying, but not immediately. Not yet. Already she has too many possible truths swirling in her head, along with the oath she had not been quite sure she wanted to make, but had felt she needed to make. Something to anchor her in the whirl of changes, of truths she cannot tell from the lies, something she can trust - and for all that Loki is a master of lies, he has never broken an oath made, and the oath is as much his with his acceptance as it is hers.

She draws in a slow, deep breath, watching Loki for a long moment. "Might I take my leave, my lord?" That she can sort some of what she has been told, and decide which she will trust to be truth, and which she will dismiss as lies or too uncertain to rely upon.

After a brief moment of silence, Loki nods, gesturing in dismissal. "I will send for you when I have something more for you to do."

Bringing her fist to her chest in the gesture of a warrior doing homage, she bows briefly before turning to leave the room. Drawing her cloak closer about her as she walks along the halls toward her own rooms in the palace.

* * *

Dawn finds Sif at the training grounds, stretching and studying the warriors who come to spar, searching for one which she is willing to challenge. Willing to use to work out her frustration with the changes that are dragging her away from the comfortable familiarity of her life. A smile crosses her face when she spots Thor coming from the palace, though it fades when she does not see Mjolnir at his side. Even when he does not use it, Thor is rarely without his hammer, and she cannot help but wonder if this latest adventure to Earth is to blame.

"Thor!" She raises a hand to signal him to come over, watching his expression as he grins and changes direction to join her at the edge of the practice ring she has all but claimed for her use this morning. There's something shadowed about his face, something that dims the usual open joy his grin signifies. Another change, though this one is perhaps a bit older, as old as his banishment, and the battle upon the Bifrost that she still knows of none of the details.

"Sif. It is good to see you out in the sun again." Thor clasps her arm in greeting a moment, glancing over her choice of weapon - not her usual glave, but a short sword and the accompanying shield. "You practice with the sword today?"

"It would be a poor warrior who does not keep in practice with all weapons she has learned." Sif shrugs, not voicing the real reason for her choice. The greater the exhaustion when she returns to her room at the end of the day, the greater her chances of sleeping without troubling dreams or thoughts plaguing her. "Will you spar with me?"

She should perhaps not take her frustrations with Loki out upon Thor, but she wonders if he does not have his own demons plaguing him about his brother, from the shadows in his eyes.

Thor is quiet a moment, an unexpectedly thoughtful expression on his face as he looks over the others gathering, before he nods. "I shall, Sif, though I shall hope I am a worthy opponent for you when I am not wielding a hammer as is my usual wont."

It is surprising that Thor would not even use one of the practice hammers, though Sif chooses to think it is perhaps her explanation as to why she isn't using her glave that drives Thor to the decision. Both of them with sword and shield, circling each other in the ring and focused on each other more than those who gather to watch them.

Only after they both are panting, with sweat stinging eyes and shallow cuts, do they yield the circle to others, and take note of those watching. The Warriors Three wait to one side, with expressions of mixed wonder and worry on their faces. The wonder is likely at seeing both of their friends working with weapons other than their favorites, and the worry perhaps at the same.

Sif pushes past them without speaking, and she can see them shift to allow Thor to follow her out of the corner of her eye, all four men trailing after her like a pack of lost puppies as she returns to the palace. Thor parts way with her, the Warriors Three following him, when the way to his rooms and hers take them in different directions. It allows her to relax somewhat, though only for a brief while - long enough to clean her weapons and herself - before someone comes knocking on her door.

"Enter!" she calls as she reaches for a belt to hold her tunic close at her waist. Sif's not certain who she would prefer least at her door, but it is easy to say the Warriors Three and Thor when they are who come inside at her call. Perhaps it would have been Loki if he had been there - or if he had sent some thrall to summon her, which would be even greater a humiliation than she's already allowed in her quest to rid herself of a debt.

She raises an eyebrow at Thor, who shrugs, settling on one of the couches that decorate the outer chamber of her rooms, Fandral and Volstagg taking other seats nearby without asking. Hogun at least has the sense to wait for her invitation to pick a seat, though the others have taken the best of them.

"You have not before sought me out in my own chambers in such a solemn mood, Thor." Sif includes the Warriors Three in that with a glance, though they have never sought her out here, save when in the company of Thor and in search of adventure. Too, they have been present on Asgard for her vigil while Thor searched for Loki on Midgard.

Thor is quiet a moment, watching her with a mix of worry, affection, and what she thinks might be a hint of pride. The affection is long familiar, both as they are companions in arms, and because of promises made long past they have yet to either of them fulfill. The worry, too, is familiar, though she's not sure what might have caused it now. It is the hint of pride that puzzles her, as she can think of nothing she has done to warrant such, unless it is because she has made plain her debt to Loki in his presence. Thor has always put his brother before much else in his life save his own love of adventure.

"The Warriors Three tell me you had waited with my mother while I was gone to Earth to seek out my brother." Thor smiles, the pride showing through more now, and Sif rolls her eyes at him. "And I know what you said then - and it is something I, too, perhaps ought to have said to him."

"I do not think he would accept it of you, as certainly he has barely accepted that I would acknowledge my debt to him, for actions poorly done. No matter that worse would have happened had I not done as I did." Sif looks away a moment, her brows furrowing. She had acknowledged the debt, but none of the Warriors Three had done such a thing, despite their own part in the whole tangle of plot and counter-plot. "I do not know if he would accept any other as owing him a debt for that treason."

"We owe him nothing." Volstagg shrugged, no sign of discomfort on his ruddy face. "We did what needed to be done, and he had already done worse that has gone unpunished."

Sif clenches her jaw against speaking for a moment, then gives Volstagg a brief smile. "You may chose to see it as you see fit, but I will do what I must to wipe clean that dishonor."

"It is that which worries us, Sif." Fandral shifts when she looks over at him, almost flinching away from her raised eyebrow. "You didn't eat while you were sitting that vigil, and you weren't waiting for Thor. And then last night, no one knew where you went after dinner, nor could find you until nearly dawn."

At least now she has an idea how long she spent in her journey to Jotunheim. Not nearly as long as she feared, though perhaps longer than she'd hoped. Sif leans back, crossing her arms over her chest as she looks around at the other three. Hogun is unreadable as ever, Volstagg looks uncomfortable, and Thor... Thor looks pained, and no little confused. As if he's not quite sure what to think, or if he's not sure who to be more worried about, Sif or Loki.

"And you think that I spent that time where, Fandral?" Sif is glad she manages to sound amused rather than outraged, though none of them can miss what Fandral is thinking. He is always thinking of such things, and Sif has always dismissed his musings as to what she does in the quiet hours of the night, no matter how elaborate or far-fetched they become.

"You were seen coming from Loki's rooms." Thor sounds the same as he looks, and Sif spares a moment to think about how it would look to him before she laughs, rolling her eyes at their fantasies.

"I spent more of my time elsewhere, and alone. I only was in there for a brief time." She could tell them of the trip to Jotunheim, and Helblindi and the exchange of words she carried between Loki and that Jotun. But something about Loki's earlier answers to her questions, and his desire to keep the information from Odin, stills the words before she can even truly form them. "I would not lay with him, and betray that promise made between us and between our mothers, Thor."

Thor relaxes, his smile returning and his worry fading entirely, though he is the only one. Fandral looks unconvinced and Volstagg still worried, if somewhat relieved. Hogun she still cannot read, and for once, Sif wishes he weren't so stoic. It would ease her own concerns if he would voice his.

"Then there is naught to worry for, though I am injured that you would go on an adventure without inviting us to travel with you." There is something else in Thor's face other than the cheerful mocking of a warrior who has missed out on some adventure with his shield-mate, but Sif doesn't want to think about what it might be. If he's wishing she hadn't given the answer she had, or if he's trying to grapple with some jealousy that has no foundation upon which to stand.

"It was no great adventure, merely a short journey." Sif shrugs, though she wonders how long the path along Yggdrasil's branches is that she was gone the night through - and yet, not more than a night. "I did not think I needed company for it."

"But why go to Loki after you returned?" Fandral will not let that bit of knowledge go, and Sif glares at him, wondering if he's truly as dense as he appears right now.

"The journey was at his behest and for his benefit. I merely returned to him what he wished to have - something which I could not have done had I not gone to his chambers, as he has not been seen anywhere else since Thor brought him home."

Fandral opened his mouth as if to ask another question, and snapped it shut when Hogun spoke before he could get a word out.

"What Sif does to restore her honor, so long as she breaks no promises and commits no treason in whatever tasks Loki sets her to repay her debt, is no matter to us." Hogun nods when she looks over at him with surprise, but doesn't add anything else. She wonders if he doesn't think he - and the other two of the Warriors Three - owes some debt, for all that he has given no sign that he would approach Loki to repay it. Unless he believes his debt owed elsewhere.

"Indeed, Hogun is right." Thor reaches out to clap a hand on Fandral's shoulder a moment. "We would be good to leave off further questions of Sif regarding her repayment of a debt."

Fandral looks as if he would like to ask something more, but he subsides regardless, and soon conversation turns to the sparring in the practice ring today, and other bouts in the past. Easy conversation, a warrior's conversation, one far less fraught with unseen dangers she could not fight with a weapon in hand.

* * *

Loki watches the fire in his room, his attention turned mostly inward as he contemplates the message - as disjointed as it had no doubt been delivered - Sif had brought back from Jotunheim. He had been honest when he'd told Thor he'd never wanted the throne, but only to be seen as a worthy son, though he'd never realized just how impossible that would be until he'd discovered his heritage and Odin's lies. Even then, Odin hadn't been entirely truthful, for how could he know Loki was Laufeyson if he had found him abandoned? Indeed, why would anyone have abandoned an infant inside of a temple, no matter that it might have been ruined?

He shook his head minutely, refocusing on the question that he most wishes to tease apart the answer to. How could he have wielded the Casket while Laufey lived if the power belonged only to the kings of Jotunheim? It should have denied him the use of it, if not harmed him when he tried to use it, if that were truly how it worked.

A knock on his door interrupts his thoughts, and Loki grimaces a moment before he sets aside the mental puzzle, rising to open it rather than calling his guest in. Sif would not come to him until he sends for her, and he thinks Thor would have barged in on the heels of knocking if he'd bothered to knock at all. Odin would have summoned him, and most of Asgard no doubt either wishes him gone or does not yet know he has been brought home.

Which leaves only Frigga to visit him, and Loki meets her gaze with a calm he does not entirely feel when he opens the door. "Queen Frigga."

She sighs, a sad smile crossing her face at his address. "Might I enter, my son?" She will not let go of that lie, though Loki is unsurprised at that. A mother, no matter that she had lied and never actually bore him, does not readily let go of her children. He wishes only that he could forgive her that lie, or let go of the love he still holds for her, but he has not yet figured out how to do either.

He nods without speaking, stepping aside to allow her into his rooms, and closing the door behind her. Frigga does not speak, even after they are both settled next to his hearth, and he has poured mead from the pitcher he'd fetched from the kitchens with his breakfast. The silence does not feel as strained as Loki had thought it would, though there is a sadness lingering in the air.

"What brings you to my chambers, Queen Frigga?" Loki cannot allow himself to fall into the familiar address, no matter that he wants nothing more than to call her simply mother. Cannot allow the lie to hide the truth now that he is aware of it.

"Can a mother not wish to simply see her son, and be reassured that he is well in body, if not in spirit?" Frigga reaches out a hand as if to touch his, and withdraws it when Loki flinches.

"You could have done so when Thor brought me back." Loki does not look at her, watching the flames instead. His hand tightens around his own cup of mead, the metal creaking faintly under his fingers. "You need not deign to come now, when all the palace might know their queen is visiting one who should be condemned as traitor."

"Some actions were ill-done, but those were not treason. Nor, when your father was in the Odin-sleep, were any of those you took as king. Foolish, perhaps war-mongering, but not treason, for how can a king commit treason against himself?" Frigga takes a sip of her mead, her gaze focused on him. Loki can feel it against his skin like a warm pressure.

"Odin is not my father." He would never again acknowledge that false bond, even when he cannot let go of the same with Frigga. It is just one more twist in the complicated web of his life. "And when all of Asgard would call all I did a treason, how can you think otherwise?"

"Because I am your mother, and I am a queen, and I know the burdens of a crown and a throne for all that I do not sit upon it myself."

Loki frowns slightly, turning over her words in his head. There is a thread there, that if he can just tug it free, might be a piece to the puzzle he's trying to put together. _A_ crown, _a_ throne. A king, rather than the king. Only _a_ king might wield the power of the Casket, perhaps, and not need be the king of Jotunheim, though perhaps might also need be a Jotun. Or, perhaps, a Jotun of a particular line.

"Did Odin tell you the story of how he found me, when he brought me here?" he asks, looking at Frigga once more. He needs more information if he is to be certain of his thoughts, and there are few people on Asgard he might ask for such and trust will give him the truth.

Frigga frowns, nonplussed at his question. "He told me that you had been left in the temple on Jotunheim, abandoned. Perhaps because of your size, for you were a small infant for a Jotun, or perhaps because of the ability you showed even at so young an age to draw a cloak of seiðr over you to appear as those around you."

"An infant cannot control seiðr, you know that." Loki will not find the information he seeks through Frigga, which means he shall have to ask better questions of Sif regarding her conversation with the Jotun, or perhaps go to Jotunheim himself to speak with Helblindi regarding what is known there of him. And if he goes to Jotunheim, he will have to be prepared, he thinks, to make good on his offer, and to attempt what Helblindi had implied he must do. "If I appeared as an Aesir, it must have been at the hands of Odin."

"I do not think it was, but perhaps it was not seiðr, either." Frigga gives him a brief smile. "You change your shape easily, and even then, you showed such an ability to mimic those around you. Perhaps it was more that than it was seiðr. I cannot say with any certainty, not after all this time."

No answers, and only more questions. Loki sighs, and turns away from Frigga to regard the fire again. He will send for Sif later, whether he draws his answers from her, or goes to Jotunheim in defiance of Odin's commands. And if the latter, he will have to ensure that the wergild to the families of the Aesir dead are paid, for he will not be able to return to Asgard, save publicly paraded before the people in chains before he is condemned for whatever crimes for which he has not settled debts.


End file.
